


Seven Ways to Say "I Love You"

by locusdesperatus



Series: Kalmia [10]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Gay Male Character, M/M, Pet Names, Slice of Life, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: Toby loves pet names.A short fic that explores the meaning behind different pet names within the context of two wild and wacky zombie fighting boys.Part of a series, probably makes more sense if you read the rest of it, but I'm not your dad and I can't tell you what to do.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Original Character(s), Leon S. Kennedy/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Kalmia [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746616
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Seven Ways to Say "I Love You"

Sugar

* * *

It falls from his lips so easily, the most well-used of all the endearments. Promises of sweet kisses and frosted, wandering fingers hid between syllables, showering him with adoration. Leon loved it, he wasn't afraid to admit that. He'd questioned it, once, demanding to know why Toby favored such a cliche pet name. He'd answered in typical fashion, crowding in close and pressing dainty kisses to his boyfriend's unruly stubble. 

"Because you make everything sweeter, and _french vanilla coffee creamer_ doesn't have the same ring to it."

He wouldn't admit to laughing, but he had, and Toby had spurred him on with even more chaste affection and sappy words.

Baby Doll

* * *

Often, when he was being a brat, Leon would pout and snark, deliberately misinterpreting words in order to pick a fight. When he was stressed and pent up, it all came out in mean quips and indignant huffs. Toby was an angel for soldiering through it, taking every slight with a smile. He knew by now that it was the emotional constipation talking, that Leon would sooner die than have a real falling out with him. To his credit, he did everything he could to ease the tension, cooking meals and giving his moody boyfriend lots of space to sort himself out. He was a patient man.

When Leon came crawling back, tail between his legs, he would nestle into Toby's chest, begging for forgiveness for his words. He'd try to sweeten the pot by going in for a cheek kiss, but he'd always be stopped, his face held gently between warm hands.

"I forgive you. You're gonna have to try harder than that if you want to get rid of me, baby doll."

Then, and only then, would he get the daylights kissed out of him.

Sweetheart

* * *

Panic gripped him, ripping through his chest like a tsunami as he watched Toby be flung across the room and dashed against the far wall. His husband crumpled to the floor, motionless and quiet. Leon couldn't hear anything but the pounding of his heart as he emptied his clip into the monster, every nerve screaming at him to _move_ , run to Toby's side, anything. He couldn't, not until the target was neutralized. He was a good toy soldier, a little puppet that knew his place. He'd been trained to keep fighting no matter how many men died around him.

It wasn't until the monster slumped over that he bolted, leaping over rubble and piles of viscera until he could slide across the marble flooring and come to a stop beside his husband.

"Toby!" He called, reaching out and touching, feeling for a pulse. A cough startled him, then another. Slowly, and with an adorably confused look, Toby opened his eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart." He croaked. "Did I look cool?"

"Absolutely not." Leon told him, already leaning in for a kiss.

Love

* * *

Their skin stuck together, hot and sensitive between their bodies. Leon couldn't keep himself from rutting against Toby's thigh, basking in the slow tenderness of their intimacy. They had all the time in the world, a rare luxury that meant more to them than they could put into words. Especially when they could spend that time touching each other, hands skating over hips and ribs, reaffirming their unfettered access to each other's bodies. Sometimes, Leon was especially greedy, tangling his fingers in Toby's hair and pulling until he was able to communicate just how roughly he wanted to be manhandled.

"Slow, Love." 

He shivered at the words, breathed against the shell of his ear. Toby would take care of him, he'd get his orgasms, he just needed to be patient. That had never been his strong suit, but he was willing to give it another shot.

Dear

* * *

Of course, Toby had an attitude as well, which he claimed he inherited from his mother. When Leon pushed too far, things got tense. He couldn't help but notice, however, that even when upset, Toby was the picture of reverence. He never cussed or yelled, but his unamused look and cocked eyebrow told the whole story. Nevermind the sarcastic lilt in his voice. 

"You never listen!" Leon whined, angrily tossing his clothes into the dryer. He spun around, hands on his hips. "Did you even hear what I said?" He was ignoring the way Toby was looking at him- like he was a petulant child- and doing his best to look angry.

"Yes, Dear."

"Don't you _Yes, Dear_ me!" Leon huffed. "I'm warning you-!"

He didn't get a chance to finish before he was being kissed.

Honey

* * *

Formal events were always a pain. They had to lay low and remain inconspicuous, afraid to attract too much attention to their relationship. Both of them were private men who enjoyed their freedoms, and being the center of the office gossip was not appealing. Therefore, they kept their intimacy to a minimum during work events, especially big parties that involved alcohol and dance floors. Leon had seen at least a few of his coworkers get a little raunchy, and he was determined not to be embarrassed like that. 

He adored dancing, though, especially slow dancing. They spent a lot of time practicing in their living room, swaying back and forth and enjoying the music together. Their hard work paid off when they attended the more regal BSAA parties, showing off as they waltzed across the floor. Leon liked the way people watched them, he savored the impressed looks and the jealous scoffing.

"Hey," Toby often had to break him out of his satisfied smugness. "Eyes on me, honey." 

The world spun as he was dipped, but with those strong arms around his waist, he knew he was safe.

Lovely

* * *

There were so many nights like this, so many sleepless hours spent sobbing into his elbow as he laid on the floor. The nightmares were back, creeping up on him like a mountain lion. He always woke up drenched in sweat, even if he was naked. His chest burned and ached as he gasped for air, careening toward the bathroom in case his stomach turned. He'd spent years dealing with it alone, sleeping on the cold bathroom tile as a way to combat his nausea. Death played in his brain like a broken record, and there was no way for him to escape it. 

That was why he drank. If he could get fucked up enough, he would sleep right through the panic attacks. He'd never claimed to be healthy.

Until Toby came crashing back into his life. The first time his body rebelled after coming home from the hospital was the worst. Stuck in his own head, he completely forgot that he wasn't alone and stumbled across the bedroom in the early hours of the morning. It wasn't until warm hands touched his shoulders that he realized he was safe, that he could push into the circle of Toby's arms and tremble until his muscles exhausted themselves. 

"Toby." He couldn't find the words, but he doubted that he really needed to.

"I've got you, lovely." Toby kissed the top of his head, cradling him as if he were more precious than the whole of the earth. "Just relax."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Twitter @pointofdespair


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